i’ll admit it.
i have come to a point in my life that i like security.
i like the feeling of being held.
i like the feeling of knowing i am not going to fall.
i like just knowing that i am held in all the right places to make me feel good.
and who causes all these things to happen?
i don’t wear it all the time.
just when i need that little extra hug to make it through my day.
just when the fall-out is hanging over the top of my pants.
just when the thought of yoga or any other form of excercise is not appealing.
and just when the one more cookie was just that one more that was one more too much.
here is where the false sense of security kicks in.
when wearing the said wonder-garment,
i think i am that trim and held in.
i eat accordingly.
then it is time to take off my security.
it is like a trailer court after a hurricane.
me with the look of shocked disbelief and my stomach needing some work from the ground up.
the only beef i have with my false sense of security is the models they use to sell this false sense of security